Jawzahr
Yellow clouds. That's the only view I ever saw. An infinite horizon of fluffy yellow as far as the eye can see, with the only break from the mundane view was a thin slither of stone etched out in my likeness. Every moment wore on like the last; the only escape from my boredom being my few attendants. The lot of them, a cheerful bunch, would hasten to any order I made. Such great friends, it was too bad they were only illusions. "Princess Snake?" came a high pitched feminine voice. "Yes, Hebi?" I replied back, softly. A mixture of boredom and sadness constructed my voice, the sound of one who had spent eons drifting above Hell, a goddess of an unforgiving stillness. "We have a visitor!" she nearly squealed. A visitor? I bolted upright in my bed. The word sounded so strange, so foreign and exotic. The mere thought of a visitor made me reminisce in the past, a terribly long time ago. Why, the last visitor had been... oh. Him. I lay back down. The hopeful emotions I had briefly felt faded, and with it my color as well. It seemed as if my skin turned a few shades grayer from my once radiant blue skin. The light barely reflected off of it anymore, a telltale sign that I was aging. Me. An immortal goddess. Aging. Of course, my immortality wasn't true. Sure, I couldn't die like mere mortals can. Yet I can fade. Should I be forgotten completely, left forever in my constant state of limbo, then surely someday I would be no more. The process had already long started, first with the graying of my hair and then the lackluster of my once shiny skin. My voice, too, had changed, reflecting the voice of a chronic chain smoker in their seventies. I felt old. Any evidence of my youth was long gone, leaving a harrowed, aching husk. At one point in my life I had been renown all across Other World as the ultimate temptress and the terror of the skies. I had been famous. King Yemma himself had even had a thing for me, yet of course that couldn't last. I drifted away in my thoughts, allowing myself to rest and embrace a cold, long sleep. "Princess Snake!" Hebi exclaimed, calling me in an even louder and more high pitched voice than before. What ever drowsiness I had had was quickly gone as I jolted awake. "What is it, Hebi!?" I yelled back irritably. "We have a visitor." Hebi urged. "Tell him to go away," I moaned, shrinking back into my bed. I didn't want anyone to see me, not like this. Puffy bags underline my eyes from infinite sleepless nights. Besides, I couldn't bear the thought of anyone coming to see me, not after him. Son Goku. He was amongst the finest men to have come visit me, the last of an era. Sure, there had been others, like King Yemma, and Lucifer, and countless more, yet none had struck my fancy quite as much as this one had right from the start. I had even thought that this one could be the one, perhaps I could settle down from my life as an immortal immoral temptress, living as a queen in the sky with my king. But that could never happen. He was an honest man, a kind man. He had already once devoted his heart to someone, a woman from his home planet. Even the fact that he was dead and no longer in the same dimension as his betrothed did not stop him from being faithful. No amount of temptation I threw seemed to work, he was as oblivious and stubborn as a rock. And when I lashed out at him, he utterly vanquished me. That seemed to be eons ago. Nonetheless, I achingly propped myself up against my bedpost, feeling blood rush down into my unnused legs. I looked over to the mirror across the room and could barely recognize myself. My skin was a blue-gray haze, scaly and lackluster. My brilliant orange hair had began to gray ages ago, with streaks of white being commonplace. Even I could no longer find myself beautiful. I had to at least find something to wear. Instinctively, I went for my favorite party dress, the royal blue scaly one. Pulling it on over my cold, bare skin, I then went for my long, white, fluffy scarf. I draped it over my shoulders as I completed my old signature outfit with my white arm-length gloves and pink pumps. Slowly, I looked into the mirror. Had I any tears, I wouldn't have been able to stop crying. The dress, once a tight fit showing complimenting my curves, now hung loosely over my gaunt body. The material had lost its shine a few thousand years prior, with some of the scales themselves loosening and falling off. Nevertheless, I stepped out into the hall, preparing myself to meet this... ''visitor. '' He was probably ugly, some ghoulish alien. Category:Gozon Category:Short Story Category:One Shot Category:Canon Respecting